Certain it is that, in twenty-seven hours from the time
that he left Msala on the morning of the great storm, he presented
himself before Maurice Gordon in his office at the factory at
Loango.
"Ah!" cried Gordon, hardly noticing the washed-out, harassed
appearance of the visitor; "here you are again. I heard that the
great expedition had started."
"So it has, but I have come back to get one or two things we have
forgotten. Got any sherry handy?"
"Of course," replied Gordon, with perfect adhesion to the truth.
He laid aside his pen and, turning in his chair, drew a decanter
from a small cupboard which stood on the ground at his side.
"Here you are," he continued, pouring out a full glass with
practised, but slightly unsteady, hand.
Durnovo drank the wine at one gulp and set the glass down.
"Ah!" he said, "that does a chap good."
"Does it now?" exclaimed Maurice Gordon with mock surprise. "Well,
I'll just try."
The manner in which he emptied his glass was quite different, with a
long, slow drawing-out of the enjoyment, full of significance for
the initiated.
"Will you be at home to-night?" asked Durnovo, gently pushing aside
the hospitable decanter. "I have got a lot of work to do to-day,
but I should like to run in and see you this evening."
"Yes, come and dine.
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